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Steele Jun 2015
I wished upon a starry face,
as you fell frantic through that azure ceiling
at a frightful, worrying breakneck pace,
but your face was on my mind that evening.

The blue's your life, in dizzying hues,
It's acid drops and dub-step tunes.
It's the the manic highs and crushing trenches.
It's playful talks on park-side benches,
right before we kiss goodbye. Then I realize
your lipstick is blue too.

It's like a bruise, sitting there on my cheek,
and it's a pain - If I can- I'd like to keep.
Because this evening, you're on my mind.
And the sky is the color of your eyes.

Azure, frantic, and so alive.
  Jun 2015 Steele
Tryst
Pull down the kiss-me mistletoe, box up the decorations,
Raise not a glass of merry cheer to toast the congregation;
Look through the pane to fairy lights that flicker blue and red
To cast their light upon the white snow-laden garden bed

voices creep from wall to wall
down spiral stairs, down darkened hall,
down basement steps they coo and call
for innocence now shed


Pick up the bricks and colored pens, wash up pineapple plate,
Dust off the tapped untested phone as looming thoughts collate;
Gaze not toward the basement door, dispel it from your head,
Rest weary limbs to soothing hymns to right the world instead

shadows lengthen, shadows fall
to mirror blackened velvet pall
that drapes around you like a shawl
and covers you in dread


Put down the morning newspapers, switch off the TV set,
Unwanted stark reminders of a day you can't forget;
Avoid all conversations of a thing best left unsaid,
Withdraw inside where you can hide as evil rumors spread

*whispers linger, whispers maul
at senses locked in sharp recall
to try to make sense of it all
when innocence is dead
  Jun 2015 Steele
Chris
~

So sweet the sound of violins,
in melodies played softly free
A symphony upon the senses,
velvet strings on quiet breeze

Enchanting is the music playing,
tender as the night is new
Harmonic dreams we now do capture,
moments forming of the view

Listen as their song does take us,
far away on heaven’s cloud
In flight beyond this pure sensation,
on this evening we have found

Beneath a moon of crescent shining,
here as only we can be
A sonnet formed of heart beat fashion,
smooth it floats so tenderly

Take my hand and I will lead you,
over hill of green design
Along a path so gently swaying,
strolling in three quarter time

For destiny did pen the lyrics,
words we sing in harmony
My heart does hear the music playing,
*every night you’re here with me
Good night Beautiful
Steele Jun 2015
Out
There's a light inside your mind.
It's time to coalesce, don't hide
that fire burning bright and fierce.
That spark's what makes you real; alive.

Rainbow banners on metal poles
tall and proud; They stand strong and stout.
It's far past time for ashen cold.
It's time those rays come roaring out.

Look into the light and decide.
"Now's the time to come alive."
Burn within and blaze without.
The Phoenix sings when it comes out.
It's a song of victory and pride.

It's okay. You're allowed to fear- to doubt-
but just remember when you're standing out:

I'm standing right there by your side.
Steele May 2015
Grey is the color of my eyes.
They stare past meadows and glades,
probing the blues and reds of sunset skies
to find black stone, dead and alone
where this vibrant life, may atone
and die.

I tire of these sensational tales;
these tear jerking moments of love and loss.
There are no tears left to pour from this grail
of dead wood. There are no more coins to toss
into this well of souls; tired and alone;
dead and lost.

In that well;
In those eyes;
Grey reigns king over fickle trust.
In this naked temple, on knees so tired.
I pray for an end to love and lust.
In this heart of frozen steel and wire,
I beg you. Let me rust.
  May 2015 Steele
Hannah Elizabeth
i've reverted back to the days when
i held a permanent position
in between the arms of an
ugly, paisley patterned easy chair.

i played a game of hide and seek--
hiding from feelings, sought only by others
to prove that i had some semblance of humanity
lurking behind my blank eyes.

those days were dark, angry
as they ate me up, gathering every drop
of my existence like a sponge

fast forward: i'm far away and
mom says the chair is gone.
what should have felt like anguish
feels like nothing.

all the feelings are in the chair
like coins hidden in the couch cushions,
gone before we recognized their existence.

i've reverted back to the days when
i held a permanent position
in between the arms of an
ugly, paisley patterned easy chair,

but now the chair is gone
and i am left to soak up the feelings.
Steele May 2015
Subtle melody,

Wrack my body. Let me see the Springtime's sunny day.
The wind was once my muse, but now my music's gone away.
Ease the sting of thumbscrews;
cut through weary moods of black and grey.
Where once fingers danced and called the wind,
now those hands can't hold a violin
aloft over my heretic's heart,
and broken fingers cannot play.

The wind will sing no pagan songs upon these broken strings.
Where once I was the prince,
now in sorrow, crown your king!
Fingers once waltzed with the wind,
but through jealous glances
of bitter men,
No song again is ever ushered in.
The sky will never sing
again.
Was given the writing prompt "What if your worst fear came true?"
This is the result.
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